


10 days

by brodylover



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Batcave, Blow Jobs, Confession, First Kiss, First Time, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Oral, Pie, Sacrifice, Season 9, Showers, Suicidal Thoughts, pie play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-03
Updated: 2013-06-03
Packaged: 2017-12-13 20:19:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/828438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brodylover/pseuds/brodylover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the first 10 days after Sacrifice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	10 days

On the first day it was raining. Dean did not go outside. It was too cold, too wet. He stayed inside and had half a peanut butter sandwich. There were four of them in the bunker, Kevin, Sam, Crowley, and him, and they really needed to go on a supply run. Dean couldn’t be bothered though. Sam was asleep and while he knew Kevin could take care of him, Dean didn’t want him to. He wanted to be there for Sam.  
And well, Crowley was there. Dean didn’t trust him, even with him being cured.

On the second day the rain was even worse. There was thunder and Dean slept for most of the day. He was in the room right next to Sam’s, if anything happened he would be there fast enough. Kevin was reading and grumbling and saying that he’d go on a supply run himself. Dean wasn’t letting him leave though, even though he had promised Kevin that he was done. With all the angels around he didn’t know if Kevin was safe.  
He wondered where Cas was but pushed the thought from his mind. Cas didn’t need him and it would be best to forget.

On the third day the rain started to lift up and Kevin actually pushed Dean out of the bunker, slamming the door behind him. They were now completely out of food other than a single pickle and a beer. They needed sustenance and Dean was the only one allowed outside. Sam was still asleep.   
He had expected the Impala to be filthy. The rain and the wind should have knocked twigs and leaves onto her. He was surprised to find that in all actuality, she was completely clean. Not only was she clean but she had been waxed with meticulous care. Dean inspected her and looked around, trying to see if there was anyone there. He didn’t know anyone who would have cleaned her.   
Even the tires had been cleaned.   
He was careful as he drove her into town, trying not to get her dirty. He didn’t want to hurt the feelings of whoever had washed her. His mind traveled to Cas and well, that was just silly. Cas didn’t know how to wash cars, not this well, and not without causing damage in some way. And if he had been there, why hadn’t he come in?

One the fourth day the rain had lifted completely. Sam finally woke up and he ate more than half the carton of eggs that Dean had gotten, as well as the majority of bacon and sausage. He was still tired so he went back to bed after drinking half a carton of orange juice and stealing some toast.   
Kevin was happier, Crowley was happier, Dean was bored. The sun was starting to creep in through the clouds and he decided to get some work done. Sure, the Impala was clean, but there were still some tune ups he could do.   
When he opened the door he paused. At his feet was a plastic bag, a little torn up. He opened it up and smiled. There was an apple pie inside. It had been sloshed about a bit so it wasn’t in perfect condition, but it was pie. And it was for him. He could tell from the note left on top of it, written meticulously. It just read “Dean. I’m sorry. –C”  
He brought the pie in and heated it up in the oven, only eating a single slice.

On the fifth day Dean forced Sam out of the house. His eyes were still bloodshot and he did have coughing fits, but he was doing a lot better. Dean promised to take him to the library, maybe a movie after. Kevin had been proving himself more than capable of watching over Crowley, even if Dean was a little worried about him beating the crap out of the demon when his back was turned.   
Sam grumbled and fought but he did seem happy checking out the entire Harry Potter series from the library, even though he had read it a bunch of times on his laptop while Dean drove. He fell asleep during the movie, which was okay. It wasn’t really good anyway. He was easier to wake up afterwards though and he seemed happier.   
When they got home Dean was excited as he had picked up a book of his own at the library, a cook book, which he was really anxious to try. He helped Sam to the bunker, even though Sam kept saying he could do it himself.   
There was a note pinned to the door. The paper was dirty and on inspection it was the back of a receipt. Once again the handwriting was beautifully meticulous.   
“Nothing I say will be enough. No amount of atoning will bring you to forgive me. I am so sorry for not listening and for ruining everything once again. –Cas.”  
Dean wrote his own note and left it on the door. His handwriting wasn’t as nice and it scrawled a bit sideways, but that didn’t matter. His note read “Come home.”

On the sixth day there was a knock on the door. Dean ran, pushed past Kevin to get to it, expecting a crisp and clean angel to be standing on the other side, waiting for him. Instead there was another grocery bag. There was a six pack of beer, but the case looked like it had been fought over, a bag of jerky, a carton of eggs, and then there was a large case of toilet paper beside it.   
Dean called out to Cas but got no response. He took the bag and the toilet paper inside.   
There hadn’t been a note but there was a crumpled up newspaper at the bottom of the bag. It looked like it had been forgotten. Dean opened it up and immediately ran to his room. He didn’t want anyone to see him, not with tears running down his cheeks and choked sounds coming from his throat.   
“Abomination” was written in that familiar handwriting, as was “Worthless”, “Unforgivable”, “Disgusting”, and “Why don’t you just kill yourself?” It was obviously not a note that was aimed towards Dean. The words were written over one another, over and over again, and some of the newspaper had been ripped through from the pressure.   
Dean wrote his note back once he finally stilled, the guilt dragging him down and his sorrow pumping in his head with his shattered heartbeat.   
“Cas. Please. Please come home. You’re forgiven so please stop with the games. You belong here. –D”  
He left the note on the door and hoped. 

On the seventh day there was another knock on the door. This one was weaker than the one the day before, more hesitant. Again, Dean raced to the door and this time, when he opened it, Cas was there. He wasn’t a crisp and clean angel though. He was filthy and gaunt and thin, eyes rimmed with red and stubble growing into a beard.   
He shrank away as Dean grabbed him, more roughly than intended and pulled him in. Dean buried his face in Cas’s neck and held him close, feeling the man’s heart beat hard and fast, his breathing too shallow and short. He didn’t let go, he just kept embracing him, until Cas finally hugged him back.   
“I saved you a piece of pie.” Dean swore as he pulled Cas inside the bunker.   
They didn’t head to the kitchen though, didn’t say a word to Kevin, who was staring, or wake Sam up. Cas said nothing, kept his head down, and let Dean lead him to the bathroom. Dean was smiling.   
Cas was finally home.  
Dean stripped him of his torn and filthy clothes and Cas let him, keeping his eyes down. He didn’t know why, but Cas seemed weak and he didn’t trust him to be left alone. He wanted to stay with him, keep a hand on him, make sure he stayed. He didn’t look capable of leaving.  
He stepped into the shower without a word and Dean was right behind him. Dean kept his boxers on but, to be honest, he didn’t really care that Cas was nude. He’d seen naked men before and in this circumstance there was nothing humiliating about a bit of flesh. He only had his boxer on in case Cas thought differently.   
Cas didn’t seem to be thinking anything.   
Dean washed his hair first, massaging his scalp and watching the gray and brown run down his neck and back. He was careful not to get any shampoo in Cas’s eyes. Then he was onto his back and chest, scrubbing and sloughing off the grime. His muscles were stiff and the wound in his gut wept. If Cas had been an angel still the bullet wound would have healed by now.   
Cas almost fell over but Dean grabbed him, a bit harder than necessary. Instinct was always rough. Cas felt cold, even with the hot water hitting him, and he was trembling. He was so very pale. He looked tired but most of all he seemed hungry.  
“Is it coming?” Cas asked and he was so quiet that Dean didn’t even hear it well enough o respond.  
Dean turned him around, so they were facing each other, so he could wash Cas’s face better. He wasn’t expecting to see the silent tears streaming down his face.   
“Cas, are you okay?” he wiped some of the tears away and Cas winced at the contact.  
“I’m waiting for the anger.” Cas explained and he still wouldn’t look at Dean, “I’ve betrayed you, I didn’t listen, I did exactly what you told me not to do. And I ruined everything. Again. So if you want to hit me, scream, kick me out, I don’t care. Just do it, get it over with. You can stop pretending to be nice to me. It’s okay. I deserve it.”  
“Cas.”  
But Cas wasn’t listening. His hands were fists at his sides and his eyes were on his feet and he looked so small.   
Dean grabbed him again, holding him tight, and his fingers were twisting in Cas’s hair. He had messed up. He had messed up hard.   
“I’m not mad.” Dean promised and Cas was shaking in his arms, “I’m not. I’m sorry. You were trying and that’s what matters. You should have listened to me but I get it. I get it. You couldn’t trust when I agreed with Naomi, who would? I saw you doing what you thought was right and, how many times have Sam and I messed up? How many times had we tried to do the right thing and failed? I started the Apocalypse. Sam killed Lilith. We’ve both ruined everything too but we’re idiots and we’re more forgiving of each other than we are of you.”  
Dean pulled back and turned Cas’s face, forcing the angel to make eye contact with him. “We can’t understand you doing wrong because you’re so good Cas. You’re an angel, for Christ’s sake. How are we supposed to react when the angels slip up?”  
“I’m not an angel anymore.” Cas whimpered.   
“I know.” Dean ran his fingers down Cas’s spine.   
Dean’s fingers trailed down Cas’s spine. It was easy to find on his back. Now it was awkward that Cas was naked, that Dean’s boxers were completely transparent. He didn’t know what to do but instincts are always rough and he followed them without thinking.   
His lips were soft against Cas’s and he kept holding the former angel so close, skin against skin, the water rushing down their forms.   
Cas yelped and pushed Dean away, almost slipping and falling on the wet tile. It was only Dean’s arms that held him upright. He forced his way out of those too and ran off, wrapping a towel around himself as he dashed out of the bathroom.  
Dean heard a startled cry, Kevin’s that must have been him almost getting run into, before he heard a door slam.   
Dean slid down the shower wall, all of the rejection and guilt sliding down his arms with the cooling water. What had he been thinking? Of course. Of course Cas didn’t feel the same way. Dean had just ruined everything.   
And things had been going so well. 

On the eighth day Cas didn’t leave his room. He had taken one of the spare rooms and he was huddling under the blankets. He had no clothes so the old blankets were all he had to stay warm with. He slept a lot but when checked up on he woke groggily. He wouldn’t speak.   
Dean didn’t check up on him. He was quiet as well, wandering about the bunker. He wanted to talk to Cas, to apologize, to ask him to forget it had ever happened. But he couldn’t face him yet. He had spent most of the night reliving the humiliation and mistake of the kiss, seeing the betrayal from Cas’s point of view.  
It was Sam that had checked up on him. He made sure to bring Cas food and he ate it ravenously. It didn’t matter what Sam brought him, he ate it all. He passed out at one point but Sam was sure it was because his blood sugar was low. He was able to bring that up with feeding him. 

On the ninth day Cas came out of the room. He was wearing some of Kevin’s larger clothes and they did not fit right. They were long enough, sure, but not quite wide enough and his posture was terrible because of it.   
He showed signs of fear around Crowley, even though Sam explained to him what had happened. He apologized to Kevin profusely. He kept a hand on Sam the whole time, as if he thought Sam may vanish or pass out when really he was starting to get better.   
He spoke in a quiet voice. He didn’t say much. When Dean spoke to him he didn’t say anything at all. He kept his eyes on the ground. 

On the tenth day Dean had had enough. He grabbed Cas by the shoulder as he walked down the hall, turned him and pushed him against the wall. There was no one there. He didn’t want anyone looking in on them. Cas looked so small and frightened, a broken winged bird in his hands.   
“Cas, please.” Dean begged him, “Please talk to me. I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”  
Cas bit his lip, wouldn’t look at him, still. His fingers fisted in his shirt.  
“Cas? Please. I need you to forgive me for this?”  
“Why?” he croaked, “Why would you do this to me? You should hate me, I was fine with you hating me, but if you’re doing this, confusing me as punishment. No. I can’t handle it.”  
“What?”  
Cas glared at him, “You’ve known for years, using it to push me away. ‘Blow me, Cas’, remember that? You used my feelings to push me away and you’re doing it now but it’s not fair! I deserve the least of any mortal but I don’t deserve that! Because it felt like you actually wanted me and I know-“ Cas was sobbing the sounds turning the words into hesitant rasps. His body was quivering and his face was becoming blotchy, “I know you can’t. So don’t pretend. You’re better than that.”  
Dean’s fingers curled in Kevin’s oversized plaid, held Cas there. Yeah, he’d messed up. He’d messed up so bad. And he couldn’t even remember saying that. He had known about Cas’s feeling? He hadn’t, he didn’t even know Cas could feel properly. And did he just confess to loving him?  
He kissed Cas again, this time harder, knocking his head back to the wall. He pressed in, swirled against the heat of Cas’s mouth, opened him up and sucked at the dryness there. He didn’t pull away until they were both panting, needy of air.   
“I wasn’t pretending Cas.” Dean promised and he held him there as he tried to fight him. He kissed the tears that fell and held him against the wall, rocking their bodies together. “I wasn’t. I’ve loved you for so long, Cas. So fucking long. I didn’t even know what to do.”  
And Cas’s hands left Kevin’s shirt, grabbed Dean by the jaw, pulled him down. He kissed him this time, fire and need and the desire of centuries behind his chapped lips. His beard was soft against Dean and he hummed into Cas’s mouth, loving every taste.

On the tenth day Dean sent everyone out. He sent Sam with a list of things that they needed at the bunker, food and clothes for Cas and tissues and batteries. Kevin had been antsy anyway and it would be good for him to get out of there for a while. Crowley, well, Dean didn’t have an explanation to get him out of the bunker. But the demon had been glad to get out of their hair, especially after giving Dean some much needed, but very much not wanted, pointers.   
He was the only one that seemed to know what was going on.   
But Dean could breathe when they were all gone. Cas was leaning against the table, a can of soda in hand. His fingers were so long and elegant around it. Dean could only picture other things to do with them. And he wasn’t wearing any of Kevin’s shirts. He had grown tired of the constraining fabric and was now just wearing his pants. He looked good like that and in the shower he had definitely not been this hot. He still had the scar on his chest too, which Dean could have sworn had been all healed up when he was an angel.   
He ignored his needs though and went to the fridge. There was enough pie for both of them and he brought it out in the pan with only one fork. He didn’t see the need to dirty up two.   
“I promised you some pie.” Dean smirked, bringing it to Cas. He shoveled some of it onto his fork and held it to Cas’s lips.  
“I’m perfectly capable of feeding myself Dean.” Cas complained, reaching for the fork.   
“Let me do this, Cas, okay?” Dean asked, “You’ve watched humans, you know what I’m doing.”  
Cas rolled his eyes but opened his mouth, letting Dean feed him. He closed his lips around the silver and hummed around it, eyelids fluttering. Dean gasped at the erotic nature of it, trying not to get too turned on. Who knew that Cas could do that?  
Dean ate a bite of pie himself but it seemed like he was eating something completely different than Cas was.   
They continued this until there was only one bite left and Dean was so hard in his jeans he could hardly even contain himself. Cas’s cheeks were red and flushed and he hadn’t stopped making those terribly arousing sounds. Then he took the last bite of pie, almost forcefully and drew Dean in for a kiss.   
Dean wanted to be mad, it was his pie, after all, and the last bite should have been his. When Cas kissed him though, the bite was untouched in his mouth and he pushed it against Dean’s tongue. They passed the bite back and forth a while until Dean finally pulled away, chewing and swallowing it.   
“Please tell me you’re as turned on as I am right now.” He panted against Cas’s beard.   
“Why don’t you see for yourself?” Cas teased.   
Dean almost fell to his knees before Cas, the way he should have always been. On his knees as if he were praying, in front of an angel, a creature of the Heavens that deserved his utmost respect. He licked his lips but not in preparation of prayer.   
He undid Cas’s jeans and pulled them down. He wasn’t even wearing boxers and his half hard cock sprang into view, almost hitting Dean in the face. He stared up at Cas as he licked and kissed at the head of it, eliciting moans that weren’t faked around the taste of pie. Cas’s knuckles turned white as they clutched the edge of the table, reacting to how Dean nibbled along his length.   
It was strange, getting this far this fast. They’d only confessed the day before and now here Dean was, on his knees, giving the first blow job he’d ever even attempted. He’d done his research, but even then, he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do.   
He hadn’t expected it to feel so good when he swallowed Cas down, brought his cock as deep into his mouth as he could. It was a strong pressure a feeling of being filled, of being whole, of being useful and he stared up at Cas, just holding him there, watching as he shook and gasped and tried not to thrust in any deeper.   
Then he released Cas and took him again, moving a bit faster and making Cas a bit more shrill. He did this until he gagged, until there were tears in his eyes, until his throat was raw, and Cas was gasping, crying out his name and begging him for something that he couldn’t even name.   
Then Dean’s mouth flooded with a salty bitter taste that he quickly swallowed down. Cas was apologizing, not meaning to have reached his orgasm so quickly. He’d never even touched himself and that was even hotter to Dean. He was corrupting an angel fully.   
He kissed Cas again, the sweetness still in Cas’s mouth mixing with the bitterness in his own.   
And Cas was rubbing him, stroking him through his denim and Dean was clawing at him, groaning and bucking against his hand. He didn’t know what he wanted, but he knew he wanted it from Cas.   
It was simple, how Cas undid his pants and slid them down just a little. He was so close to Dean, licking his lips and keeping his eyes on Dean’s erection as he stroked it, loose at first then tighter and harder. It shouldn’t have felt so amazing, better than anything Dean had ever done himself, and he was holding Cas’s shoulders, holding himself upright, and finally coming over the kitchen floor.   
He wanted more, wanted to feel every inch of Cas, but there would be many other days to come and Cas wouldn’t be going anywhere.


End file.
